Skamielina means fossil and there is an excavated feel about this pretty piece of of pastoral horror. Like something has been dug up and now stalks the cloying, humid summer, alive again in the warm rain with the incessant mosquito-buzz of tape, the ever-present tape-buzz of mosquitos.

Samutek’s has over 30 releases, none of which have any details apart from titles that are in varied German, Polish and English. The cover photography is murky-analogue-queasy-kitsch, their practice a deliberate mystery.

Skamielina is darker than most of their others, the playing seems inhuman, disquieting. Mumbled hums, detuned guitars and harmonicas waft like ill breezes. Hissing tones breathe out of sickly synths forming beds for the compositions to convalesce on, to sweat and fever dream upon. And there’s the constant presence of the not-so-great outdoors, darkly waiting at the periphery.

If one were not careful one could find oneself sinking here, being sucked under, lungs filled with mud, mud that over eons congeals to rock. Trapped with your anxiety, your invasive repetitive thoughts, trapped with yourself. Until an archaeologists hammer, strikes an elbow, shocking you back to life, to stalk the edge of an insect infested summer once again.